The King's Highway by G. P. R. James

Its easy to link to paragraphs in the Full Text ArchiveIf this page contains some material that you want to link to but you don't want your visitors to have to scroll down the whole page just hover your mouse over the relevent paragraph and click the bookmark icon that appears to the left of it. The address of that paragraph will appear in the address bar of your browser. For further details about how you can link to the Full Text Archive please refer to our linking page.

and determined men, carry into execution at once the resolution wehave formed. Let us turn our horses' heads towards London; meet atTurnham Green, as was proposed; and while people are seeking for ushere in vain, the usurper's life will be brought to an end, and hisunsteady government overthrown for ever. Everything in the countrywill be in confusion; our friends will be rising in allquarters;--the Duke of Berwick, I know, was at Calais yesterday;--thearmy can land in two days; and the advantages of our situation willall be secured by one prompt and decided blow. I say, leave themwhere they are. Before they can make their escape, the whole thingwill be over, and we shall be safe."

"Nonsense, Sir William," cried Fenwick, "nonsense, I say. Here isPlessis, has evidently played into their hands; the man we put toguard the girl has been bribed off his post; the window itself is notso high but that an active man might easily drop from it, if he couldsee clearly where to light below; ere noon, to-morrow, the tidings ofour assemblies would reach Kensington. William of Orange would notstir out, and the whole plan would be frustrated. We should behunted down through the country like wild beasts, and you would beone of the first to repent the advice you have given."

"But my good friend, Fenwick," said Sir George Barkley, "all this isvery well. But still you do not say what is to be done. Every oneobjects to the plan which is proposed by another, and yet no oneproposes anything that is not full of dangers."

"For my part," said Charnock, who had hitherto scarcely spoken atall--"for my part, if you were to ask my opinion, I should say, Letus walk in--we are here eleven or twelve in all; twelve, I think--andjust quietly make a circle round, and give them a pistol-shot ortwo. If people WILL come prying into other persons' affairs, andmeddling with things they have no business to concern themselvesabout, they must take the consequences."

"Not in cold blood! not in cold blood!" exclaimed Rookwood.

"And the women!" said Sir John Fenwick, "Remember the women!"

"I hope William of Orange won't have a woman with him to-morrow,"said Charnock, coolly, "or if he has, that she'll not be upon my sideof the carriage; I would never let a woman stand in the way when agreat deed was to be done."

"Well, for my part," said Fenwick, "I agree with Sir William Parkyns,that no time is to be lost in the execution of this business; but Iagree also with Captain Rookwood, that it would be horrible to cutthese men's throats in cold blood. What I propose is this, that we atonce demand that they lay down their arms, and that, pledging ourword of honour no evil shall happen to them, we march them down oneby one to the boat, and ship them off for France. It will be anaffair of three hours to get them embarked; but that will be timewell bestowed. We can then proceed to the execution of our scheme atonce, and in far greater safety. If they make any resistance, theconsequence be upon their own head."

"But," said Sir George Barkley, "depend upon it they will not go.There is a determination in that young fellow's look which is not tobe mistaken. He will submit to no power but that of the law."

"Well, then," said Sir John Fenwick, "frighten him with the law!Declare that you will take them all before a magistrate, to give anaccount of the blood that has been shed here. There is blood on hiscollar, and his face too, for I saw it; and the whole stairs isspotted with blood. Tell them that both the men must surrender andgo before a magistrate. The ladies, you can say, may go where theylike, and do what they like, but the men must surrender. Let half ofus go down with the men, and lead or force them to the ship, whilethe rest bring down the two women a few minutes after."

"That is not a bad plan at all, Fenwick," said Sir George Barkley."Let us see what can be done by it. We can but come to blows atlast."

While the latter part of this conversation had been going on betweenFenwick and Barkley, the Jacobite called Charnock and a dull-lookingman not unlike himself, but only shorter and more broadly made, hadbeen speaking together in a low voice behind. At first theirconversation was carried on in a whisper; but at length the man saidsomewhat louder, "Oh, I'll do it! That's the only way to settleit. You take the one, and I'll take the other. We don't readilymiss our mark either of us."

"Let Sir George begin his story," replied Charnock. "There must besome talk at first, you know. Then get quietly up behind our timidfriends here, and when I give a nod, we will both fire at once."

"I understand," answered the other. "You had better see that yourpistols are primed, Charnock, and that the balls are not out, for yourode at a rate down that hill which would shake almost any ball intothe holster."

"I looked just now," said Charnock--"it's all right. Let us keeppretty near Sir George;" and turning round, he came nearer to SirGeorge Barkley, who was just finishing his conversation with Fenwick,as we have described.

While holding this long consultation, the insurgents had not beenmany paces from the door, and they now turned and re-entered theroom. The state of defence in which Wilton and his companion hadplaced themselves showed a degree of determination that seemed tosurprise and puzzle them a good deal; for Sir George Barkley againpaused, and spoke to Sir John Fenwick, who was close behind him.

"The more reason for doing as we propose," replied Sir John to hisfriend's observation. "They will not resist going before amagistrate--at least, Wilton Brown will not, and we can easily managethe other."

Sir George Barkley then advanced another step, saying to Wilton, who,notwithstanding the barrier he had raised, was still quite visible asfar as the waist, "We have consulted, sir, on what it is necessary todo with you, and if your own account of yourselves be true, you willreadily acquiesce in our determination. If you resist it, you showthat you know yourselves to be guilty of some crime, and we must dealwith you accordingly."

"You shall do so, sir," replied Sir George Barkley, "but you shall gobefore a magistrate in the first instance. Here are evident marks ofviolence having been committed upon the person of some one; thestaircase, the vestibule, the corridors, are covered with blood; yourcoat, your collar, your face, are also bloody; and we feel ourselvesbound, before we let you depart, to have this matter strictlyinquired into."

"Oh, go before a magistrate at once," said Laura, in a low voice: "wehave nothing to fear from that, and they have everything."

"Showing clearly that it is a pretence, dear lady," replied Wilton,in the same low tone. "Keep behind the barricade. I see one of thosemen creeping up from the door with a pistol in his hand.--Sir," hecontinued, addressing Sir George Barkley, "in those circumstances,the best plan for you to pursue will be to bring a magistrate here. Ineither know who you are, nor what are your views; but I find thisyoung lady, who has been carried off from her father's house,illegally brought hither, and detained. I know the house to be asuspected one; and although, as I have before said, I neither knowwho you are, nor what are your views, and do not by any means wish toknow, yet the circumstances in which I find you are sufficientlydoubtful to justify me in refusing to quit this spot, and placemyself in your hands, unless every man present gives me his word ofhonour as a gentleman that I shall go free whithersoever I will. If,therefore, you think a magistrate requisite to inquire into thisbusiness, send for one. I think, however, that you would do muchbetter to plight me your word at once, and let me go. I know no onebut Sir John Fenwick here: therefore I can betray no one but him;and to Sir John Fenwick I pledge my word that I will not mentionhim."

It was evident that Sir John Fenwick put no trust in such assurances,and he was seen speaking vehemently with Sir George Barkley. At thesame moment, however, a low conversation was carried on in a slow andcareless sort of manner by Charnock and the other, who were justbehind.

"I can't get a shot at the Captain," said Charnock, calmly. "Hishead is covered by that table they've set on end.--Stop a bit, stopa bit!"

"Better let me settle this young fellow first," said the other, "andthen the stupid fools will be obliged to make a rush upon theCaptain. When once blood is drawn, they must go on, you know."

"Very well," replied Charnock, "I don't care"--and there was thesudden click of a pistol-lock heard behind. "His eye is upon you,"said Charnock. "Make haste! He is cocking his pistol!"

The man instantly raised the weapon that was in his hand, and was inthe very act of firing over the shoulder of Sir George Barkley, whenhis arm was suddenly knocked up by a blow from behind, and the ballpassed through the window, a yard and a half above Wilton's head.

Wilton instantly dropped the muzzle of his pistol, without returningthe shot. But there was a cause for his so doing, which none of theconspirators themselves, who were all eagerly looking towards thespot where he stood, had yet perceived.

While Charnock and the other had been speaking, a young gentleman hadsuddenly entered the room, and pushing rapidly forward through thegroup in the doorway, he had advanced to the front and knocked up thehand of the assassin just as he was in the very act of firing. Thenew comer was dressed in dark-coloured clothes, and more in theFrench than in the English costume of that day, with a curious sortof cravat of red silk tied in a bow beneath the chin. He wore hishat, which was trimmed with feathers, and a large red bow of ribands,and in his hand he bore nothing but a small cane with an amber head,while his person displayed no arms whatever, except a small ridingsword, which every gentleman wore in that day.

His figure was tall and commanding; his countenance open, noble, butsomewhat stern; and there was to be remarked therein the peculiarexpression which the pictures of Vandyke have handed down to us inthe portraits of Charles I. It was a melancholy expression; but inCharles that melancholy seemed somewhat mingled with weakness; whileon the stern brow and tightly-compressed lips of the young stranger,might be read, by the physiognomist, vigour and determination almostapproaching to obstinacy.

The same, perhaps, might have been said of him which was said by theRoman sculptor when he beheld the picture of Charles, "That man willnot die a natural death;" and in this instance, also, the prophecywould have been correct. But there was something that might havespoken, too, of death upon the battle-field, or in the deadly breach,or in some enterprise where daring courage needed to be supported byunshrinking pertinacity and resolution.

The sound of the pistol-shot fixed all eyes, for an instant, uponthat particular point in the room towards which it had been fired;but the moment that the conspirators beheld the person who now stoodamongst them, they instantly drew back in a circle. Every sword wasthrust into its sheath, every hat was taken off, while, with aflashing eye and frowning brow, the young stranger turned to SirGeorge Barkley, exclaiming, "What is all this, sir? What is this,gentlemen? Are ye madmen? or fools? or villains?"

"Not more than those persons deserve, sir," replied the stranger,"who betray the confidence of their King, when they know that he ispowerless to punish them."

"We are serving our King, my lord duke," replied Sir John Fenwick,"and not betraying his confidence. Are we not here in arms, my Lordof Berwick, perilling our lives, prepared for any enterprise, and allon the King's behalf?"

"I say again, sir," replied the Duke of Berwick, "that those whoabuse the trust reposed in them, so as to ruin their monarch'shonour, his character, and his reputation, are tenfold greatertraitors than those who have stripped him of his crown. There is butone excuse for your conduct, that you have acted with mistaken zealrather than criminal intent. But you have aggravated the guilt ofyour plans by concealing them till the last moment, not only fromyour King, but from your Commander-in-chief. All here who holdcommissions, or at least all but one or two, hold them under my handas generalissimo of my father's forces. Those commissions authorizeyou to raise men for the service of your lawful sovereign, and tokill or take prisoner his enemies arrayed in arms against you, but toassassinate no man; and I feel heartily ashamed that any personleagued in this great cause with me, should not be able todistinguish between war and murder. However, on these subjects let usspeak no more at present, for there are matters even more importantto be thought of I heard of this but yesterday morning, and at theimminent peril of my life have come to England to stop such deeds. Isought you in London, Sir George Barkley, and have followed youhither; and from what I have heard, I have to tell you that yourcoming to England has been discovered, and that for the last four orfive days a warrant has been out against you, without your knowingit. This I learned, beyond all doubt, from my Lady Middleton. Thereis reason, also, to believe that your whole designs are known, sirs,though it would seem all your names have not yet been obtained. Myadvice, therefore, is, that you instantly disperse to different partsof the country, or effect your escape to France. For you, Sir George,there is no chance but to retire to France at once, as the warrant isout."

"It most fortunately happens," said Sir George Barkley, "that a shipis on the point of sailing, and lies in the river here, under Dutchcolours. Your grace will, of course, go back in her?"

"No, sir," replied the Duke--"I shall go as I came, in an open boat.But you have no time to lose, for I know that suspicion is attachedto this spot. In the first place, however, tell me, what you havehere. What new outrage is this that I have just seen attempted? If Ihad not entered at the very moment, cold and cowardly bloodshed wouldhave taken place five minutes ago."

The Duke's eyes were fixed upon Wilton as he spoke; and thatgentleman, now seeing and understanding whom he had to deal with, putback the pistol into his belt, and advanced, saying,--

"My lord, it is probable I owe my life to your inter-position; andto you the circumstances in which I am placed will be explained in amoment. In your honour and integrity, I have confidence; but themurderous purpose which you have just disappointed shows how well Iwas justified in doubting the intentions of the men by whom I was butnow surrounded."

"Had you given them no offence, sir?" demanded the Duke of Berwick."I can scarcely suppose that so dark and sanguinary an act would havebeen attempted had you not given some cause. I saw the pistollevelled over Sir George Barkley's shoulder, while he seemed speakingto you. That I considered a most unfair act, and stopped it. But youmust surely have done something to provoke such deeds.--Goodheavens! the Lady Helen Oswald!" he continued, as the elder ladyadvanced, with Laura clinging to her. "Madam, I fully thought youwere at St. Germain.--Can you tell us anything of this strangeaffair?"

"But too much, my lord," replied the lady, speaking eagerly, "but toomuch for the honour of these men, who have thought fit to violateevery principle of justice and humanity. This young lady beside mehas been dragged from her father's house by the orders of some ofthese gentlemen here present, beyond all doubt. This young gentlemanhas traced her hither, legally authorized to carry her back to herfather; and although he plighted his honour, and I pledged my wordfor him, that he would do nothing and say nothing to compromise anyof the persons here present, they not only refused to let him depart,but have, as you saw yourself, most treacherously attempted to takehis life while they were affecting to parley with him."

"Madam," said the Duke of Berwick, in a sorrowful tone, "I am deeplygrieved and pained by all that has occurred. I confess I never feltdespondency till I discovered that persons, pretending to be myfather's friends, have made his cause the pretext for committingcrimes and acts like these. I have already heard this young lady'sstory. All London is ringing with it; and the Earl of Aylesbury gaveme this morning, what is probably the real explanation of the wholebusiness. We will not enter upon it now, for there is no time to bespared. I feel and know--and I say it with bitter regret--that thedeeds which these gentlemen have done, and the schemes which theyhave formed, will do more to injure the cause of their legitimatesovereign than the loss of twenty pitched battles. Sir GeorgeBarkley, I beg you would make no reply. Provide for your safety, sir.Your long services and sufferings are sufficient to make someatonement; and I will take care to conceal from the ears of the King,as far as possible, how you have misused his authority. Sir JohnFenwick and the rest of you gentlemen must act as you think fit inregard to remaining in England, or going to the Continent. But I aminclined to recommend to you the latter, as the safest expedient. Youwill leave me to deal with this gentleman and his friends; for I neednot tell you that I shall suffer no farther injury or insult to beoffered to them. As to the personage who actually fired the pistol, Ihave merely to tell him, that should I ever meet with him incircumstances where I have the power to act, I will undoubtedlypunish him for his conduct this night."

The conspirators whispered for a moment amongst themselves; and atlength Sir William Parkyns took a step forward, saying, "Are we tounderstand your grace that you will give us no assistance from theFrench forces under your command?"

"You are so to understand me," replied the Duke of Berwick, sternly:"I will not, sir, allude distinctly to the schemes that you haveformed. But you are all well aware of them; and I tell you that Iwill give no aid, support, or countenance whatsoever, either to suchschemes or to the men who have formed them. At the same time, let mesay, that had there been--instead of such schemes--a general risingagainst the usurper--ay, or even a partial rising--nay, had I foundtwenty gentlemen in arms who needed my help in the straightforward,honest, upright intent of re-seating their sovereign on his lawfulthrone, I would not have hesitated for a moment to land the troopsunder my command, and to have made a last determined stand for honourand my father's rights. As it is, gentlemen, I have nothing fartherto say, but take care of yourselves. I shall remain here for a coupleof hours, and then return with all speed to France."

"But does not your grace run a great risk," said Sir George Barkley,"in remaining so long?"

"I fear no risk, sir," said the Duke of Berwick, "in a righteouscause; and I do not wish that any man should say I was amongst thefirst to fly after I had warned others. You have all time, gentlemen,if you make use of it wisely. Some, I see, are taking advantage of mycaution already. Sir George, you had better not be left behind in therace. You say there is a ship in the river--get to her, and be gonewith all speed."

"But the captain will not sail without the Lady Helen," said theconspirator, with some hesitation: "she, it seems, has hired thevessel, and he refused this morning to go without her."

"That shall be no impediment," said the lady. "You may tell thecaptain that I set him free from his engagement, and I will give anorder to his grace that the money may be paid which is the man's due.I told you before, Miss Villars had met with a severe accident, and Ican neither quit her in such circumstances, nor go till she hasrecovered."

"Will you be kind enough, madam," replied Sir George, who always hadthoughts for his own safety, "to write what you have said in thesetablets? Here is a pencil."

The lady took the tablets and wrote; and while she did so, two orthree, more of the conspirators dropped quietly out of the room. TheDuke of Berwick at the same time advanced, and said a few kindlywords to Lady Laura, and spoke for a moment to Wilton, with afamiliar smile, in regard to the risk he had run.

"To tell the truth," he said, "I was almost afraid that I shouldmyself meet with a shot between you; for I saw you had your pistolcocked in your hand, and expected that the next fire would have beenupon your side."

"I saw you knock his arm up, sir," replied Wilton; "and though I wasnot aware of the name of the person who entered, I was not a littlerejoiced to see, at least, one man of honour amongst them."

"Alas! sir," replied the Duke, in a lower tone, "they are all, moreor less, men of honour; but you must remember that there is afanaticism in politics as well as in religion, and men will thinkthat a great end will justify any intermediate means. An oak, plantedin the sand, sir, is as soon blown down as any other tree; and it isnot every heart that is firm and strong enough constantly to supportthe honour that is originally implanted in it against the furiousblasts of passion, interest, or ambition. You must remember, too,that those who are called Jacobites in this country have been huntedsomewhat like wolves and wild beasts; and nothing drives zeal intofanaticism so soon as persecution."

"My lord, I am now ready to depart," said Sir George Barkley,approaching, "and doubt not to be able to make my views and motivesgood to my royal master."

"There is none, sir, who will abhor your views so much," replied theDuke of Berwick, proudly, "though he may applaud your motives. Butyou linger, Sir George. Can I do anything for you, or for those othergentlemen by the door?"

"Nothing, your grace," replied Sir George Barkley; "but we would fainsee you provide for your own safety."

"Oh, no fear, no fear," replied the Duke. "Gentlemen, good night. Itrust to hear, when in another land, that this bad affair has endedwithout evil consequences to yourselves. To the cause of yoursovereign it may be a great detriment; but I pray God that no whisperof the matter may get abroad so as to affect his honour or bringsuspicion on his name. Once more, good night!"

Sir George Barkley bowed his head, and followed by three others, whohad still lingered, quitted the room.

CHAPTER XXVII.

There came a pause after the conspirators were gone, and the Duke ofBerwick gazed down upon the floor for a moment or two, as if thinkingof what was next to be done.

"I shall be obliged to stop," he said at length, "for an hour or so,till my horses can feed, for they want refreshment sadly. To say thetruth, I want some myself, if I can obtain it. I must go down to thestable, and see; for though that is not exactly the place to procurefood for a man, yet, in all probability, I shall get it nowhere else.I found the good master of the house, indeed, who is an oldacquaintance of mine, hid in the farthest nook of his own stable,terrified out of his life, and assuring me that there would certainlybe bloodshed up stairs."

"I will go down and look for him, your grace," replied CaptainByerly, coming more forward than he had hitherto done. "You will findno lack of provisions, depend upon it, in Monsieur Plessis's house."

"One moment, sir," said the Duke, stopping him as he was going: "haveI not seen your face before?"

"Long ago, sir, long ago," replied the Captain. "I had the honour ofcommanding a troop, sir, in your regiment, during all that sadbusiness in Ireland--Byerly is my name."

"I remember you well, sir," said the Duke, "and your good services.Should we meet in France, I may be able to repay them--especially ifyour views are still of a military kind."

Byerly bowed his head, without reply, but looked much gratified; andwhile lie proceeded to look for Plessis, the Duke once more turned tothe Lady Helen.

"I am sorry," he said, "to hear, from your account, madam, that anaccident has happened to Miss Villars. I have been so long absentfrom St. Germain myself, that it is not very long since I heard ofher father's death. May I inquire if she is seriously hurt? for Ishould apprehend that, after what has occurred, persons holding ouropinions would run considerable risks in this country, and besubjected to a persecution even more severe than heretofore."

The Lady Helen replied simply that her young friend was seriouslyhurt, and could not be removed; but she avoided carefully allreference to the nature of the injury she had received. The Duke thenturned the conversation to indifferent subjects, spoke cheerfully andgaily with Lady Laura and Wilton, and showed that calm sort ofequanimity in circumstances of danger and difficulty which is partly agift of nature, and partly an acquisition wrung from many perils andevils endured. Ere long, Byerly returned with Plessis, and food andwine were speedily procured. The tables were set in order, and theDuke remained for about a quarter of an hour refreshing himself;while Wilton and the two ladies continued to converse with him,delaying their departure at his request, lest any of the moreunscrupulous conspirators should still be lingering in theneighbourhood.

Plessis, however, was evidently uneasy; and he did not scruple atlength to express his fear, that amongst all the events of thatnight, something might have happened to call the attention of theworld at large upon what was going on in his dwelling.

Wilton's apprehensions, in regard to the Duke, were somewhat of thesame nature; for he remembered that Arden, the Messenger, whom he nowknew to be a thorough coward, had fled at the beginning of the wholebusiness, and would most likely return accompanied by as large aforce as he could raise in the neighbourhood.

These fears he failed not to communicate to the Duke of Berwick; butthat nobleman looked up with a gay smile, replying, "My good sir,my horse can go no farther. I rode one to death yesterday, and thisone, which I bought in London, is already knocked up: if I must becaught like a rat in a rat-trap, as well here as anywhere."

"But will it not be better," said Wilton, "to accompany me and theLady Laura to High Halstow, where you can instantly procure a horse?We must proceed thither on foot. I suppose you are not likely to beknown in this part of the country, and my being with you may shieldyou from some danger."

"By no means a bad plan," said the Duke, starting up--"let us go atonce! When anything feasible is proposed, we should lose no time inexecuting it."

Wilton was ready to depart, and Lady Laura was eager to do so. Everymoment, indeed, of their stay made her feel fresh apprehensions lestthat night should not be destined to close without some more painfulevent still, than those which she had already witnessed.

She turned, however, to the Lady Helen before she went, and with thepeculiar sort of quiet grace which distinguished her, approached hergently and kissed her cheek, saying, "I can never thank yousufficiently, dear lady, for the kindness you have shown me, or thedeliverance which I owe, in the first place, to you; and I thank youfor the kindness you have shown me here, as much as for mydeliverance: for if it had not been for the comfort it gave me, I dobelieve I should have sunk under the sorrow, and agitation, andterror, which I felt when I was first brought hither. I hope andbelieve, however, that I do not leave you here never to see youagain."

Lady Helen smiled, and laid her hand gently upon Wilton's arm.

"There is a link between him and me, lady," she said, "which cannever be broken; and I shall often, I hope, hear of your welfare fromhim, for I trust that you will see him not infrequently."

Lady Laura blushed slightly, but she was not one to suffer any fineor noble feeling of the heart to be checked by such a thing as falseshame.

"I trust I shall," she answered, raising her eyes to Wilton's face--"I trust I shall see him often, very often; and I shall never see him,certainly, without feelings of pleasure and gratitude. You do notknow that this is the second time he has delivered me from greatdanger."

The Duke of Berwick smiled, not, indeed, at Lady Laura's words, butat the blush that came deeper and deeper into her cheek as she spoke.He made no observation, however, but changed the conversation byaddressing Wilton, "Wherever I am to procure a horse under your goodguidance, my dear sir," he said, "I must, I believe, take anothername than my own; for though Berwick and London are very distantplaces, yet there might be compulsory means found of bringing themunpleasantly together. You must call me, therefore, CaptainChurchill, if you please;--a name," he added, with a sigh, "which,very likely, the gentleman who now fills the throne of England mightbe very well inclined to bestow upon me himself. Lady Helen, I wishyou good night, and take my leave. Master Plessis, I leave the horsewith you: he never was worth ten pounds, and now he's not worth five;so you may sell him to pay for my entertainment."

Bowing to the very ground from various feelings of respect, French,English, and Jacobite, Plessis took a candle and lighted the Dukedown stairs, while Wilton followed, accompanied by Laura and CaptainByerly. The outer door was then opened, and the whole party issuedforth into the field which surrounded the house, finding themselvessuddenly in the utter darkness of a moonless, starless, somewhatfoggy night.

From the little stone esplanade, which we have mentioned, lay awinding road up to the gate in the walls, and along that Wilton andhis companion turned their steps, keeping silence as they went, withthe listening ear bent eagerly to catch a sound. It was not, indeed,a sense of general apprehension only which made Wilton listen soattentively, for, in truth, he had fancied at the very moment whenthey were issuing forth from the house, that he had heard a lowmurmur as if of people talking at some distance.

The same sound had met the ears of the Duke of Berwick, and hadproduced the same effect; but nothing farther was heard till theyreached the gate, and Wilton's hand was stretched out to open it;when suddenly a loud "Who goes there?" was pronounced on the oppositeside of the gate, and half-a-dozen men, who had been lying in theinside of the wall, surrounded the party on all sides.

Several persons now spoke at once. "Who goes there?" cried one voiceagain; but at the same time another exclaimed, "Call up theMessenger, call up the Messenger from the other gate."

These last words gave Wilton some satisfaction, though they were byno means pleasant to the ears of the Duke of Berwick.

The former, however, replied to the challenge, "A friend!" andinstantly added, "God save King William!"

"God save King William!" cried one of the voices: "you cry that oncompulsion, I've a notion. Pray, who are you that cry `God save KingWilliam'?"

"My name, sir, is Wilton Brown," replied the young gentleman,"private secretary to the Earl of Byerdale. Where is the Messengerwho came down with me? Be so good as to call him up immediately."

"Oh! you are the young gentleman who came down with the Messenger,are you?" said one of the others: "he was in a great taking lest youshould be murdered."

"It was not his fault," replied Brown, somewhat bitterly, "that I wasnot murdered; and if it had not been for Captain Churchill and thisother gentleman, who came to my assistance at the risk of theirlives, I certainly should have been assassinated by the troop ofJacobites and smugglers amongst whom I fell."

The Duke of Berwick could not refrain from a low laugh at thedescription given of the persons whom they had just seen; but Wiltonspoke loud again, in order to cover the somewhat ill-timed merrimentof his companion, asking of the person who had replied, "Pray, whoare you, sir?"

"I am head constable of High Halstow," replied the man, "and Iremained here with our party, while Master Arden and the rest, withthe soldiers from Hoo, went round to the other gate."

"Why did not the cowardly rascal go in by this gate himself,"demanded Wilton, "instead of putting you, my friend, at the post ofdanger?"

"Ay, it was shabby enough of him," replied the man; "but I don't fearanything; not I."

"I'm afraid, my good fellows, it is too late," replied Wilton. "Allthe gang have got off near an hour ago. If that stupid Messenger hadknown what he was about, this affair would have had a differentresult; but he ran away at the first shot that was fired--Have yousent for him?" he continued, after a moment's pause.

"Oh yes, sir, we've sent for him," said the man, "though it's notmuch use, if they are all gone, sir."

"Oh yes," replied Wilton, "you may as well make a good search amongstthe grounds and in the hedges. It will say something for youractivity, at all events. I shall go on to Halstow, but I wish one ortwo of you would just show us the way, and when Arden comes up, tellhim to come after me immediately. I have a great mind to put himunder arrest, and send him up to the Earl, for his bad conduct."

The tone in which Wilton spoke, and the very idea of his arrestingthe arrestor of all men, and sending up the Messenger of State as acommon prisoner to London, proved so impressive with the personageshe addressed, that they made not the slightest opposition to hispurpose of proceeding, but sent one of their number to show him theway.

Accompanied, therefore, by Lady Laura, the Duke of Berwick, andCaptain Byerly, Wilton proceeded as fast as possible up the lane.When they had gone about a hundred yards, however, he said, "CaptainChurchill, will you have the kindness to give the lady your arm? Iwill follow you somewhat more slowly, for I want to speak a few wordsto this fellow Arden.--He must not see you, if it can be avoided,"he added, in a low tone; "and I think I hear him coming."

It was indeed as Wilton imagined. Arden had come round with allspeed, and joined the head constable of High Halstow, demandingeagerly, "Where is Mr. Brown?"

"He is gone on," replied the constable, "with the other gentlemen;and a mighty passion he is in, too, at you, Mr. Arden. He vows thatyou left him to be murdered, and that he would have been murderedtoo, if it had not been for that Captain Churchill that is with him."

After a moment's thought, however, he concluded that the person whochose to assume that name might be Lord Sherbrooke, and he asked,"What sort of a man was he? Was he a slight young gentleman, about myheight?"

"Oh bless you, no," replied the constable. "There wasn't one of themthat was not three or four inches taller than you."

"Captain Churchill!" said the Messenger--"Captain Churchill!" and headded, in a lower voice, "I'll bet my life this is some d---dJacobite, who has imposed himself upon this foolish boy for CaptainChurchill. I'll be after them, and see."

Thus saying, he set off at full speed after Wilton and his party, andreached them within a minute after that gentleman had dropped behind.

"Is that you, Mr. Arden?" demanded Wilton, as he came up. "Stop amoment, I wish to speak to you."

"And I wish to go on, and see who you've got there, sir," said Arden,in a somewhat saucy tone, at the same time endeavouring to passWilton.

"Stop, sir!" cried the young gentleman, catching him by the collar."Do you mean to say, that you will now disobey my orders, afterhaving left me to provide for my own security, with the dastardlycowardice that you have displayed? Did not the Earl direct you toobey me in everything?"

"I will answer it all to the Earl," replied the man, in an insolenttone. "If he chooses to put me under a boy, I do not choose to becollared by one. Let me go, Mr. Brown, I say."

"I order you, sir," said Brown, without loosing his hold, "to goinstantly back, and aid the people in searching the grounds of thathouse!--now, let me see if you will disobey!"

"I will search here first, though," said the man. "By, I believethat's Sir George Barkley, on before there. He's known to be inEngland. Let me go, Mr. Brown, I say, or worse will come of it!" andhe put his hand to his belt, as if seeking for a pistol.

Without another word, Wilton instantly knocked him down with one blowof his clenched fist, and at the same moment he called out aloud,"Captain Byerly! and you constable, who are showing the way--come backhere, and take this man into custody, and bear witness that herefuses to search for the Jacobites in the way I order him.Constable, I shall want you to take him to town in custody thisnight. I will show you my warrant for what I do when we get to theinn."

The two persons whom he addressed came back instantly at his call;and when the Messenger rose--considerably crest-fallen from Wilton'ssudden application to measures which he had not expected--he foundhimself collared by two strong men, and led along unwillingly uponthe road he had before been treading.

"Do not let him chatter, Captain," Wilton whispered to CaptainByerly, as he passed on; and then immediately walking forward, hejoined the Duke and the Lady Laura. Byerly, who understood what hewas about, kept the Messenger at some distance behind; but,nevertheless, some sharp words passing between them reached Wilton'sear during the first quarter of an hour of their journey; then came adogged silence; but at length the voice of Byerly was again heard,exclaiming, "Mr. Brown, Mr. Arden says, that, if you will overlookwhat has passed, he will go back, and do as you order."

"I shall certainly not look over the business," replied Brown, aloud,"unless he promises not only to obey my orders at present, but alsoto make a full apology to me to-morrow."

"He says he will do what you please, sir," replied Byerly; and Wiltonturning back, heard the sullen apologies of the Messenger.

"Mr. Arden," he said, "you have behaved extremely ill, well knowing,as you do know, that you were placed entirely under my orders.However, I shall pardon your conduct both upon the first occasion,and in regard to the present business, if you now do exactly as youare told. By your running away at the time you ought to have comeforward to assist me, you have lost an opportunity of serving thestate, in a manner which does not occur every day. In regard to thegentleman who has gone on, and whom you were foolish enough to thinkSir George Barkley, I pledge you my honour that such is not the case.Sir George Barkley cannot be less than twenty years older than he is,and may be thirty."

"He's not Captain Churchill, though," replied the man, doggedly.

"Do not begin to speak impertinently again, sit!" said Wilton, in asharp tone. "But go back, as I before ordered, with the constable:you know nothing of who that gentleman is, and my word ought to besufficient for you, when I tell you that he has this very night notonly aided me in setting free the Lady Laura, but absolutely saved mylife at the risk of his own from the very gang of Jacobites in whosehands you most negligently left me. To drop this subject, however, Ihave one more caution to give you," he added, in a lower voice. "Itis Lord Sherbrooke's wish that you should say not one syllable inregard to his share in the events of this night."

"Ay, sir, but I ought to ascertain whether he be safe or not. I knowhe has his wild pranks as well as most young men; but still one oughtto know that he's safe."

"If my word for you is not sufficient on that score," repliedWilton, "you will find him at the house to which I directed you togo. It is now clear of all its obnoxious tenants, and I doubt not,Lord Sherbrooke will speak to you for a moment, if you wish it."

Thus saying, Wilton turned upon his heel, and walking quickly onward,soon overtook the Duke of Berwick and Lady Laura. They were now notfar from High Halstow, and the rest of the way was soon accomplished.But as they passed into the door of the public-house, Captain Byerly,who came last, touched Wilton on the arm, and whispered, "Do you knowthat fellow is following you?"

"No, indeed," answered Wilton: "what can be done?"

"Go and speak to the master of the house," said Byerly, quickly. "Iwill wait here in the door, and take care he does not come in. Thelandlord will find means to get the Duke away by the back."

"I dare not trust him," replied Wilton, in the same low tone. "I feelsure he has betrayed me once to-night already."

"If he did," answered Byerly, hastily, "it was because he thought youon the wrong side of the question. He's a well-known man hereabouts,and you may trust him with any secrets on that side."

Wilton followed the Duke of Berwick and Laura as fast as possible,and found the landlord showing them into a small sanded parlour onthe left hand, after passing a door which swung to and fro with apulley.

"Come in here, landlord," he said, as he passed; "come in, and shutthe door. Have you a horse saddled?" he continued.

"I have one that can be saddled in a minute," said the landlord,looking first at Berwick and then at Wilton.

"Have you any back way," continued Wilton, "by which this gentlemancan get out of the town without going through the street?"

"Ay have I," answered the man; "through our stable, through thegarden, lead the horse down the steps, and then away to Stroud.There's no missing the way."

"Well then, sir," said Wilton, grasping the Duke's hand, "this isyour only chance for safety. That rascally Messenger has followed usto the door, and doubtless if there be any magistrates in theneighbourhood, or constables left in the place, we shall have themdown upon us in ten minutes."

"Come with me, my lord, come with me!" cried the landlord, burstinginto energy in a moment. "I know who you are well enough. But theyshan't catch you here, I warrant you. Come into the stable: there'snot a minute to be lost; for there's old Sir John Bulrush, and ParsonJeffreys, who's a magistrate too, drinking away up at the rectorytill the people come back from Plessis's house." Berwick lingerednot; but taking a quick leave of Lady Laura, and shaking Wilton'shand, he followed the landlord from the room. Laura and Wilton stoodsilent for a minute or two, listening to every sound, and calculatinghow long it might be before the horse was saddled and the Duke uponhis way. Before they imagined it possible, however, the landlordreturned, saying, in a low voice, but with an air of joyful triumph,"He is gone; and if they were after him this minute, the way throughmy garden gives him the start by half a mile."

"And now, landlord," said Wilton, "send off some one on horseback toget us a conveyance from Stroud to carry this young lady on the wayto London. I suppose such a thing is not to be procured here."

"That there is not," replied the landlord; "and unless I send yourhorse, sir, or the Messenger's, or the Captain's, I have none to go."

"No news," answered Byerly, "except that the rascal went up thestreet, and I followed him to the door of the parsonage. Yourparson's a magistrate--isn't he, Wicks?"

The landlord gave a nod; and Byerly continued, "By Jove, I'll be offthen, for I'm not fond of magistrates, and he'll be down here soon."

"You had better bid them bring down a chaise for the gentleman andlady from Stroud," said the landlord. "That will save me from sendingsome one on the gentleman's horse."

"No, no, landlord, no, no!" answered Byerly, "you are not up to astratagem. Send your ostler with me on Mr. Brown's horse. We'll goclattering along the street like the devil, if we can but get offbefore the justices comedown, and they'll take it into their wisenoddles that one of us is the gentleman who has just gone. Come,Wicks, there's no time to spare. We shall meet again, Mr. Brown; goodnight, good night. I shall tell the Colonel that we've done thebusiness much more tidily than I could have expected." And withoutfurther ceremony he quitted the room.

Another pause ensued, during which but a few words passed betweenWilton and Lady Laura, who sat gazing thoughtfully into the fire.Wilton stood by the window and listened, thinking he heard somedistant sounds as of persons speaking, and loud tongues at thefurther end of the street. A minute after, however, there came theclatter of horses' feet upon the pavement of the yard; and inanother instant Byerly's voice was heard, saying, "Come, put to yourspurs," and two horses galloped away from the inn as hard as theycould go.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

IT is wonderful how scenes of danger and difficulty--it is wonderfulhow scenes of great excitement of any kind, indeed--draw heart toheart, and bind together, in bonds indissoluble, the beings that havepassed through them side by side. They are never to be broken, thosebonds; for between us and the persons with whom we have trod suchpaths there is established a partnership in powerful memories, out ofwhich we can never withdraw our interest. But it is not alone thatthey are permanent which renders them different from all lighterties; it is that they bring us closer, more entirely to each other;that instead of sharing the mere thoughts of what we may call theoutward heart, we enter into the deepest recesses, we see all thehidden treasures, we know the feelings and the ideas that areconcealed from the general eye of day, we are no longer kept in theporch, but admitted into the temple itself.

Wilton was left alone in the small parlour of the inn with LadyLaura; and as soon as he heard the horses' feet gallop away, heturned towards her with a glad smile. But when he did so, he foundthat her beautiful eyes were now fixed upon him with a gaze deep andintense--a gaze which showed that the whole thoughts and feelings ofher heart were abstracted from everything else on earth to meditateon all that she owed to him, and on the things alone that wereconnected therewith.

She dropped her eyes as soon as they met his; but that one look wasoverpowering to the man who now certainly loved her as deeply as itis possible for man to love woman. Many a difficulty and doubt hadbeen removed from his mind by the words which Lord Sherbrooke hadspoken while affecting to seek for the warrant; and there were vaguehopes of high destinies in his heart. But it must be acknowledged,that if there had been none, he would have given way, even as he did.

He advanced towards her, he took her hand in his, he pressed itbetween both his own, he kissed it tenderly, passionately, and morethan once. Lady Laura lifted up her eyes to his face, not blushing,but very pale.

"Oh, Wilton," she said, "what do I not owe you!" and she burst intotears. The words, the look, the very tears themselves, were all morethan sufficient encouragement.

"You owe me nothing, Laura," Wilton said. "Would to God that I hadsuch an opportunity of serving you as to make me forgive in myselfthe rash, the wild, the foolish feelings that, in spite of everystruggle and every effort, have grown up in my heart towards you, andhave taken possession of me altogether. But, oh, Laura, I cannot hopethat you will forgive them, I cannot forgive them myself. They can--Iknow they can, only produce anguish and sorrow to myself, and exciteanger, perhaps indignation, in you."

"Oh no, no, no, Wilton!" she cried, eagerly, "not that, not that!neither anger, nor indignation, nor anything like it, but grief--andyet not grief either--oh no, not grief!--Some apprehension, perhaps,some anxiety both for your happiness and my own. But if you do feelall you say, as I believe and am sure you do, such feelings, so faras depends upon me, should produce you no anguish and no pain; but Imust not conceal from you that I very much fear, my father wouldnever--"

An increasing noise at the door of the house broke in upon what Laurawas saying. There were cries, and loud tongues, and vociferations ofmany kinds; among which, one voice was heard, exclaiming, "Go roundto the back door!"

Another person, apparently just under the window, shouted, "I am verysure that was not the man!" and then added, "Bring out my horse,however, bring out my horse! I'll catch them, and raise the hue andcry as I go!"

At the same time there were other voices speaking in the passage, andone loud sonorous tongue exclaiming, "Ali, Master Wicks, MasterWicks! I thought you would get yourself into a scrape one of thesedays, Master Wicks;" to which the low deep voice of the landlord washeard, replying--

"I have got myself into no scrape, your reverence. I don't know whatyou mean or what you wait.--Search? You may search any part of thehouse you like. I don't care! If there were twenty people here, Ihave nothing to do with it. I can't refuse gentlemen to put up theirhorses, or to give them a bowl of punch, or a mug of ale. There, sir,there's a gentleman and lady in that parlour. Pray, sir, walk in, andsee whether they are Jacobites or smugglers or what riots."

As these words sounded close to them, Lady Laura sunk down again intoher chair; and Wilton, drawing a little back, hesitated, for amoment, whether he should go out himself and notice what was takingplace, or not. The question, however, was decided for him by the doorof the room being thrown suddenly open, and the rotund person of theclergyman of the parish, bearing, in the "fair round belly with fatcapon lined," the sign and symbol affixed by Shakspeare to the"Justice of Peace," entered the apartment. He gazed with somesurprise upon two persons, who, notwithstanding some slight disarrayin their apparel from all the events which had lately taken place,still bore the appearance of belonging to the highest class ofsociety.

The reverend justice had entered the room with a look of pompousimportance, which was diminished, but not entirely done away, byevident surprise at the appearance of Laura and Wilton. The younggentleman, however, was not particularly well pleased with theinterruption, and still less with this domineering air, which hehastened to extinguish as fast as possible.

"Pray, sir, what do you want?" he demanded, addressing themagistrate, "and who are you?"

"Nay, sir," answered the reverend gentleman, "what I want is, to knowwho you are. I have here information that there is in this house anotorious Jacobite malefactor, returned from beyond seas, contrary tolaw, named Sir George Barkley. I am a magistrate for the county, sir,and I have information, I say."

"Upon oath, sir?" demanded Wilton.

"No, sir, not upon oath, not upon oath," replied the clergyman, "butwhat is quite as good, upon the word of a Messenger of State, sir--ofMr. Arden, the Council Messenger, sir."

"Landlord!" exclaimed Wilton, seeing the face of Wicks amongstseveral others at the door, "be so good as to bring Mr. Arden, theMessenger, here. Bring him by the collar, if he does not comewillingly. I will be answerable for the consequences."

The magistrate looked astounded; but the landlord came forward with agrin and a low bow, saying, "The gentleman has mounted his horse,sir, and ridden after those other two gentlemen who went away aquarter of an hour ago; but, Lord bless you, sir," he added, with asly look, "he'll never catch them. Why, his horse is quite lame."

"The fact is," replied Wilton, "this man Arden did not choose to comein here, as he well knew I should certainly send him to London incustody, to answer for his bad conduct this night.--Sir, I beg toinform you, that I am private secretary to the Earl of Byerdale; andthat this young lady, the daughter of the Duke of Gaveston, havingbeen carried off from the terrace near his house by agents, it issupposed, of the late King James II., for the purpose of drawing overher father to support that faction, the Duke, who is pleased torepose some trust in me, authorized me, by this paper under his hand,to search for and deliver the lady, while at the same time the Earlof Byerdale intrusted me with this warrant for the purposes hereinmentioned, and put this man Arden, the Messenger, under my directionand control. At the very first sight of danger the Messenger ranaway, and by so doing left me with every chance of my being murderedby a gang of evil-disposed persons in this neighbourhood. On hisreturn with a large body of constables and some military to the houseof a person who is named Plessis, I understand, he refused to obeythe orders I gave him, and followed me hither, alleging that one oftwo gentlemen who had come to my assistance, and to whom I owe my ownlife and the liberation of this lady, was the well-known personagecalled Sir George Barkley. Those gentlemen both departed, as soon asthey saw us in safety, and I am ready to swear that neither of themwas Sir George Barkley; the person this Messenger mistook for himbeing a young gentleman of four or five and twenty years of age."

"Phoo!" cried the magistrate, with a long sort of whistlingsound--"Sir George Barkley is a man of fifty, with a great gash onhis cheek. I remember him very well, when--"

But then seeming to recollect himself, he paused abruptly, adding,"But pray, who was this young gentleman who so came to yourassistance, sir?"

"I never saw him in my life before," replied Wilton, "and the name hegave himself was Captain Churchill."

"To be sure, to be sure!" cried the clergyman; "a younger brother ofmy Lord of Marlborough's."

"Some relation of the Marlborough family, I believe," replied Wilton,dryly. "However, I do not know the Earl's brother myself, nor am Iaware whether there is any other Captain Churchill or not; but thiswas a young gentleman, evidently under thirty, and consequently hecould not be Sir George Barkley."

"I have searched the house high and low," said the voice of anotherstout gentleman, who now pushed his way into the room; "and I canfind nothing but a sick cat up in the garret."

"Ay, ay, Brother Bulrush, ay, ay!" replied the clergyman; "ay, ay, itis all explained. It is all that Messenger's fault, and he has nowrun away again. This worshipful young gentleman is secretary to theEarl of Byerdale, the great minister; and I'm sure we are both verysorry to have given him any trouble."

"You have given me no trouble at all, gentlemen," replied Wilton,"and I have only to beg that if the Messenger return after I am gone,you will send him up to town tomorrow morning in the custody of aconstable. I shall not fail to report to Lord Byerdale your activityand zeal upon the present occasion; which, indeed, may be of someservice, as I am sorry to say, that serious remonstrances have beenmade regarding this part of the country, it being intimated, thatsmuggling, coining, and even treasonable meetings and assemblies, aremore common here than in any other part of Kent."

"Indeed, sir," replied one of the justices, somewhat alarmed,"indeed, it is not our fault. They are an unruly set, they are a mostunruly set. We do the best we may, but cannot manage them.--But, sir,the young lady looks fatigued and tired. Had she not better come upto the parsonage, and rest there this night. She shall have a goodwarm bed, and Mrs. Jeffreys, who is a motherly sort of woman, will bequite delighted to take care of her ladyship."

"Or Lady Bulrush either, I am sure," said the other magistrate. "Themanor-house is but half a mile."

Wilton turned to Laura, to inquire what she thought fit to do; butthe young lady, not very much prepossessed in favour either of themotherly sort of clergyman's wife, or the more elevated Lady Bulrush,by the appearance and manners of their marital representatives,leaned both her hands upon Wilton's arm, feeling implicit confidencein him alone, and security with him only; and, raising her eyesimploringly to his face, she said in a low voice, "Indeed, indeed,Wilton, I would rather not--I would rather go home to Beaufort Houseat once, to relieve my poor father's anxiety."

"In truth," he replied, in the same tone, "I cannot but think itwould be better for you to obtain a night's rest, if you can, ratherthan to take a long journey after such terrible agitation as you haveundergone."

"Do not ask me--nay, do not ask me," she said; and then turning tothe magistrates, who were conferring together, and settling in theirown mind that a match was undoubtedly to take place between the LadyLaura and the Earl of Byerdale's secretary, she added, "I am veryanxious to return to my father, gentlemen, and as a carriage has beenalready sent for from Stroud, I would certainly prefer going onto-night. I will very gratefully," she added--her apprehensions ofsome new dangers occurring at the little public-house coming backupon her mind--"I will very gratefully accept the shelter of theparsonage, till the carriage arrives from Stroud, if by so doing Ishall not keep the lady up beyond her usual hour."

"Oh, not at all, madam, not at all," replied the clergyman: "Mrs.Jeffreys will be delighted to see you.--Let us lose no time.--Wicks,when the carriage comes, send it up to my house.--Ma'am, I will showyour ladyship the way."

Laura, however, still clung to Wilton's arm, as her best support; andfollowing the clergyman together, they proceeded to the parsonage,escorted by a number of footmen, farming servants, and peoplecollected in haste, who had come to the examination of Wicks's house.On their arrival, they were ushered into a tall dining-room withcarved panels, the atmosphere of which was strongly imbued with themingled odour of punch and tobacco, an unsavoury but at that timevery ordinary perfume in the dining-room of almost every countrygentleman. The mistress of the mansion, however, proved, in point ofmanners and appearance, considerably superior to her lord and master,and did all that she could in a very kind and delicate manner torender the beautiful girl, cast for the time on her hospitality, ascomfortable as the circumstances would admit.

It is not to be denied, indeed, that both Wilton and Laura could atthat time have very well spared the presence of any other persons,for there were feelings in the hearts of both which eagerly longedfor voice. There was much to be told; there was much to be explained;there was much to be determined between them. There was, indeed, theconsciousness of mutual love, which is no slight blessing andcomfort, under any circumstances; but that very consciousnessproduced the longing thirst for farther communion which nothing butlove can give.

When all has been said, indeed--when the whole heart has been pouredforth--when the first intense feelings of a new passion have wornaway, or, having grown familiar to our bosoms, surprise us no longer,we can better bear the presence of others; for a look, an occasionalword, even a tone, will convey to the mind of those we love, all thatwe could wish to say. But when love is fresh, and every feelingproduced thereby is new and wonderful to our hearts; when we makehourly discoveries of new sensations in our own bosoms, and neitherknow how to express them, nor how to conceal them, the presence ofothers--cold, indifferent, strange--is no slight punishment andprivation.

Laura endeavoured, as far as possible, to keep down such feelings,but yet she could not drive them from her bosom. The minutes seemedlong, tedious, and heavy: from time to time she would fall into a fitof musing; from time to time she would answer wide from the question;but it fortunately so happened, that the events which had latelyoccurred, and her anxiety to rejoin her father, were causessufficient to account for greater inequalities of conduct than these.

In the meantime, Wilton was subjected to the same, or even greaterpain, from the impossibility of saying all that he could have wishedto say; and he had, moreover, to contend both against the civility ofhis landlord, individually, and the curiosity of the two magistrates,conjointly, who did not fail, during the time that he remained, bothto press hire to eat and drink, in spite of all denials andremonstrances, and to torment him with questions, many of themfrivolous in the extreme, not only concerning the events in which hehad been lately engaged, but also in regard to everything that wastaking place in London.

Nearly two hours passed in this unpleasant manner; but at length thejoyful sound of carriage-wheels announced that the man who had beensent to Stroud had returned. Laura was eager to set out; but themotherly care of good Mrs. Jeffreys detained her for some timelonger, by insisting upon wrapping her warmly up in cloaks, andmantles, and hoods, to guard against the cold of the wintry night.

At length all was ready; and Wilton led her down to the carriage,which it seems had been procured with difficulty; the machines calledpost-chaises being not so common in those days as they became withinfifty years afterwards. The two magistrates stood bowing low to theyoung lady as she entered the tall, long-backed, but really notuncomfortable vehicle. The landlord of the inn, too, and his ostler,were there; and Wilton failed not to pay them liberally for theservices they had rendered. He then briefly gave his own address, andthat of the Duke to his reverend entertainer, and entered thecarriage beside the Lady Laura, with a heart beating high with thehope and expectation of saying all and hearing all that the voice oflove could speak.

CHAPTER XXIX.

For once--perhaps the only time that ever such a thing happened inthis world--hope and expectation were not disappointed. Wilton seatedhimself by the side of Laura, the postilion cracked his whip, whichwas then as common in England as it is now in France, the horses wentforward, and the wheels rolling through the little street of HighHalstow, were soon upon the road to Stroud.

There was a silent pause between Wilton and Laura for some minutes,neither of them could very well tell why; for both of them had beenmost anxious for the opportunity, and both of them had been not alittle grieved that their former conversation had been interrupted.The truth is, however, that very interruption had rendered theconversation difficult to renew; for love--sometimes the mostimpudent of all powers--is at other times the most shy and bashful.Wilton, however, found that he must not let the silence go on muchlonger, and he gently took Laura's hand in his, saying, perhapssomewhat abruptly--

"Dear Laura, everything that we have to say to each other, must besaid now."

"Oh, Wilton!--" was her only reply; but she left her hand in his, andhe went on.

"You had just spoken, when we were interrupted," he said, "words thatmade me very, very happy, though they were coupled with expressionsof fear and apprehension. I have nothing to tell you, dear Laura,that can altogether remove those fears and apprehensions, but I cansay something, perhaps, that may mitigate them. You are not aware ofthe circumstances in which I have had the happiness of seeking youand finding you this night; but you doubtless heard me mention, thatit was your father who intrusted me with the search; and surely, dearLaura, that must show no slight trust and confidence on his part--mayI add, no slight regard."

"Oh, I am sure he feels that for you," replied Laura, "quite sure!but yet such a trust shows, indeed, far more regard than I knew heentertained, and that gives me some degree of hope. Still, I cannotjudge, Wilton, unless I had seen the manner in which my father didit. You must tell me all that has been done and said in thisunfortunate business: you must tell me everything that has occurred.Will you?--and I will tell you, upon my word, exactly what theimpression is that it all makes upon my mind."

Wilton had not spoken of their love; Laura had not mentioned thesubject either; but they had done fully as much, they had referred toit as a thing known and acknowledged. Wilton had recalled words thathad made him very happy, and Laura had spoken of hopes which couldonly apply to her union with himself.

He now, however, told her all that had occurred, briefly thoughclearly. He dwelt not, indeed, on his own feelings during the painfulevents lately past; but the few words that he did speak on thatsubject were of such a kind as to show Laura instantly the distressand anxiety which her disappearance had caused him, the agony that hehad suffered when he thought that she was lost to him for ever. Thewhole of her father's conduct, as displayed by Wilton, seemed to herstrange and unaccountable; and well it might do so! for her lovertold her the terrible state of mind in which the Duke had been atfirst, and yet he did not think fit to explain, in any degree, thecauses which he felt sure had prevented her father from joining inthe search himself. Notwithstanding all that had taken place in thepresence of Laura, he judged it far better to avoid any mention ofthe unfortunate hold which Sir John Fenwick had obtained over theDuke, by drawing him in to take a share, however small, in the greatJacobite conspiracy of the day.

Laura, then, was greatly surprised at all she heard; and that Wiltonshould be employed in the affair seemed to her not the least strangepart of the whole business. An expression of this surprise, however,induced Wilton to add, what he still in some degree feared, and hadlong hesitated to say.

"I do not, indeed, believe, dear Laura," he said, "that your fatherwould have trusted me so entirely in this business, if it had notbeen for some words concerning myself which were spoken to him byLord Byerdale when I was not present. They were repeated to meafterwards by Sherbrooke, and were to the effect, that although, inconsequence of some of the late unfortunate disturbances in thecountry--the rebellions, the revolutions, the changes of dynastiesthat have happened within the last twenty years--it was necessary toconceal my birth and station, yet my blood was as pure and ancient asthat of your father himself. This, I think, made a change in all hisfeelings towards me."

Wilton felt the small rounded fingers of Laura's hand rest, for asingle instant, more heavily in his own, while she drew a deep longbreath, as if a weight had been taken from her bosom.

"Oh, Wilton!" she said, "it makes all the difference in his views. Itwill make all the difference in our fate. You know that it would makenone to me; that the man I loved would be loved under anycircumstances of fortune or station, but with him it is the first,the greatest consideration. There may be difficulties still; theremay be opposition; for, as you know, I am an only child, and myfather thinks that nothing can equal what I have a right to expect;but still that opposition will vanish when he sees that my happinessis concerned, if the great and predominant prejudice of his educationis not arrayed against us. Oh! Wilton, Wilton, your words have mademe very happy."

Her words certainly made Wilton happy in return;--indeed, mosthappy. His fate had suddenly brightened from all that was dark andcheerless, from a situation in which the sweet, early dream of loveitself but rendered everything that was sombre, painful, anddistressing in his course, more gloomy, more bitter, more full ofdespair, it had changed, to the possession and the hope of all thatthe most sanguine imagination could have pictured of glad, andjoyful, and happy, to the prospect of wealth and station, to the hopeof obtaining the being that he loved best on earth, and to thecertainty of possessing her early, her first, her warm, her fullaffection.

Had Wilton given way to what he felt at that moment, he would haveclasped her to his heart and sealed the covenant of their love on thesweet lips that gave him such assurance of happiness. But heremembered that she was there alone with him, in full confidence,under the safeguard of all his best feelings, and he would not forthe world have done one thing that in open day could have called thecolour into her cheek. He loved her deeply, fully, and nobly, andthough, under other circumstances, he might scarcely have hesitated,he now forebore. But again and again he pressed his lips upon herhand, and thanked her again and again for all that she had said, andfor all the hopes and glad tidings that her words implied.

Their conversation then turned to love, and to their feelings towardseach other. How could it be helped? And Wilton told her all; how thepassion had grown upon him, how he had struggled hard against it, hownot even despair itself had been able to crush it; how it had gone onand increased in spite of himself; how intense, how ardent it hadbecome. He could not tell her exactly, at least he would not, what hehad felt on her account, when he believed that she was likely tobecome the bride of Lord Sherbrooke; but he told her fully, ay, andeloquently, what agony of mind he had endured when he thought ofseeing her give her hand to any other man, without affording him anapparent chance of even making an effort for himself. In short, hegave her the whole picture of his personal feelings; and there is nowoman that is not gratified at seeing such a picture displayed, whenshe is herself the object. But to a mind such as that of LadyLaura, and to feelings such as were in her bosom, the tale offeredhigher and nobler sources of delight. The love, the deep love, whichshe felt, and which was now acknowledged to her own heart, requiredevery such assurance of full and ample return as his words afforded,to render it confident and happy. But from the display of hisfeelings which he now made, she felt, she saw, she knew that she wasloved as she could wish to be--loved as fully, as intensely, asdeeply, as she herself loved--loved with all those feelings, high,and bright, and sweet, which assured her beyond all question that theaffection which she had inspired would be permanent as well asardent.

Wilton won her, too, to speak upon the same subject as himself,though, of course, he could not expect her to dwell upon what shefelt in the same manner. There was a great difference: on the onehand, all the sensations of his heart towards her were boldly avowedand minutely detailed; the history of his love was told in languagestraightforward, eager, and powerful. The love of her bosom, on thecontrary, was shadowed forth rather than spoken, admitted rather thantold, her feelings were referred to, but not depicted.

"You make me glad, Wilton," she said, "by telling me all this, for Ialmost feared--and was teasing my own heart about it at the rectory,lest I should have done the unwomanly thing of loving first--I willnot call it, being too easily won; for I should certainly despise thewoman who thought anything necessary to win her, when once shereally loved, further than the conviction of her lover's sincerity,and honour, and nobility of spirit. But yet I thought, that even youmight somewhat despise me, if you found that I had loved you beforeyou loved me. And yet, Wilton," she added, after a momentary pause,"I cannot help thinking that even if it had been so, I should havebeen more pardonable than many people, on account of the very greatservices you have rendered me at various times, and the perils youhave encountered in my behalf. How could I help loving a man who hastwice risked his life for me?"

"Oh, dear Laura," replied Wilton, "those services have been verysmall ones, and not worthy of your naming. I certainly did strive toconceal my love," he continued; "but I believe that, let us struggleagainst our feelings as we will, there are always some signs andtokens which show to the eyes of those we love--if there be anysympathy between their hearts and ours--that which is passing inregard to themselves within the most secret places of our bosom.There is a cabalistic language in love, Laura--unknown to any butthose who really do love, but learnt in a moment, when the mightysecret is communicated to our hearts. We speak it to each otherwithout knowing it, dear Laura, and we are understood, without aneffort, if there be sympathy between us."

In such conversation wore the night away, as the carriage wendedslowly onward. Two changes of horses were required to carry Laura andher lover back to the metropolis, and bells had to be rung, ostlersand postilions wakened, horses brought slowly forth, and many anothertedious process to be gone through, which had brought the nightnearly to a close, before the carriage crossed the wide extent ofBlackheath, and passed through a small part of the town of Greenwich,which had then never dreamt of the ambitious project that it hassince achieved, of climbing up that long and heavy hill.

Wilton and Laura had sufficient matter for conversation during thewhole way: for when they had said all that could be said of thepresent and the past, there still remained the future to beconsidered; and Laura entreated her lover by no precipitate eagernessto call down upon them opposition, which, if it showed itself of avehement kind at first, might only strengthen, instead of diminishingwith time. She besought him to let everything proceed as it hadhitherto done, till his own fate was fully ascertained, and any doubtof his birth and station in society was entirely removed.

"Till that is the case," she said, "to make any display of ourfeelings towards each other might only bring great pain upon us both.My father might require me not to see you, might positively forbidour thinking of each other; whereas, were all difficulties on thatone point removed, he might only express a regret that fortune hadnot been more favourable to you, or require a delay, to make himcertain of our sincere and permanent attachment. After that point ismade clear, let us be open as the day with him. In the meanwhile, hemust receive you as a friend who has rendered him the greatest anddeepest of services; and I shall ever receive you, Wilton, I need nottell you, as the only dear and valued friend that I possess."

"But suppose, dear Laura," said Wilton, "suppose I were to see youpressed to marry some one else; suppose I were to see some suitor inevery respect qualified to hope for and expect your hand--"

"You do not doubt me, Wilton?" said Lady Laura.

"Oh no!" he replied. "Not for a moment, Laura. But it would be verypainful."

"It would be so to us both," she replied; "but I would take care thatthe pain should soon be brought to an end. Depend upon it, Wilton,it will be better as I say; let us not, in order to avoid uncertainpains and dangers, run into certain ones."

Wilton at once yielded to her views, and promised to be entirelyguided by her opinion.

The day broke upon them just as they were passing through London, ontheir way to Beaufort House; but the night which had just passed hadleft them with changed feelings in many respects. It had been one ofthose eventful periods which come in, from time to time, likerevolutions in states, to change entirely the very constitution ofour whole thoughts and feelings, to give a new character and entirelynew combinations to the strange microcosm within us. That greatchange had been effected in Laura by that which is the great firstmover of a woman's destinies. She loved and had avowed her love: shewas married in spirit to the man beside her, and she felt that to aheart like hers eternity itself could not dissolve the tie which hadthat night been voluntarily established between them. She viewed notsuch things as many, nay, most other women view them; she looked noton such engagements, she looked not on such affections, as things tobe taken up and dropped, to be worn to-day, in the gloss of novelty,and cast away to-morrow, like a fretted garment; she judged not thatit was the standing before the altar and receiving the ring upon herfinger, and promising to wear out earthly existence with anotherhuman being, that constitutes the union which must join woman to theman of her heart. But she regarded the avowal of mutual love, thepromise of unchanging affection, as a bond binding for ever; as, infact, what we have called it, the marriage of the spirit: as a thingnever to be done away, which no time could break, no circumstancesdissolve: it was the wedding of--forever. The other, the moreearthly union, might be dear in prospect to her heart, gladdening toall her hopes, mingled with a thousand bright dreams of human joy,and tenderness, and sweet domestic peace: but if circumstances hadseparated her the next hour from Wilton for ever, she would have feltthat she was still his wife in heart, and ended life with the hope ofmeeting him she had ever loved, in heaven. To take such ties uponherself, then, was in her estimation no light thing; and, as we havesaid, the period, the short period, of that night, was sufficient toeffect a great, a total change in all the thoughts and feelings ofher bosom.

The change in Wilton was of a different kind, but it was also verygreat. It was an epoch in man's destiny. His mind was naturallymanly, powerful, and decided; but he was very young. The events ofthat night, however, swept away everything that was youthful or lightfrom his character for ever. He had acted with vigour, and power, anddetermination, amongst men older, better tried, and more experiencedthan himself. He had taken a decided and a prominent part in a sceneof strife, and danger, and difficulty, and he had (to make use ofthat most significant though schoolboy phrase) "placed himself." Hischaracter had gone through the ordeal: without any previouspreparation, the iron had been hardened into steel; and if any parthad remained up to that moment soft or weak, the softness was doneaway, the weakness no longer existed.

CHAPTER XXX.

If we were poets or fabulists, and could invest inanimate objectswith all the qualities and feelings of animate ones; if, with all themagic of old AEsop, we could make pots and kettles talk, and enduebarn-door fowls with the spirit of philosophy, we should be temptedto say that the great gates of Beaufort House, together with thestone Cupids on the tops of the piers, ay, and the vases of carvedflowers which stood between those Cupids, turned up the nose as theantiquated, ungilt, dusty, and somewhat tattered vehicle containingthe Lady Laura Gaveston and Wilton Brown rolled up.

The postboy got off his horse; Wilton descended from the vehicle, andapplied his hand eagerly to the bell; and Laura, who had certainlythought no part of the journey tedious, did now think the minutesexcessively long till the gates should be thrown open. In truth, thehour was still an early one; the morning cold and chilly, with a greybiting east wind, making the whole scene appear as if it were lookedat through ground glass; and neither the porter nor the porter's wifehad thought it expedient to venture forth from their snug bed at suchan unpropitious moment. A second time Wilton applied his hand to thebell, and with more success than before, for in stays and petticoat,unlaced and half tied, forth rushed the grumbling porter's wife, witha murmured "Marry come up: people are in great haste: I wonder who isin such a hurry!"

The sight of Wilton, however, whom she had seen very lately with theDuke, but still more the sight of her young lady, instantly alteredher tone and demeanour, and with a joyful swing she threw the gateswide open. The chaise was drawn round to the great doors of thehouse, and here a more ready entrance was gained.

"Is the Duke up?" demanded Wilton, as the servant opened the door.

"Oh yes, sir," replied the man: "he was up before day-break: but heis not out of his dressing-room yet."

Laura ran up the steps into the vestibule, to see her father, and torelieve his mind at once from all that she knew he was suffering onher account. She paused, however, for a moment at the top to see ifWilton followed; but he merely advanced a few steps, saying, "I willleave you to converse with your father; for, of course, I have verymuch to do; and he will be glad to spend some time with you alone,and hear all that you have to tell him."

"But you will come back," said Lady Laura, holding out her hand tohim: "you will not be away long."

"Until the evening, perhaps," said Wilton, pressing that fair hand inhis own: "I may have many things to do, and the Earl may also requiremy presence."

"Oh, but you must come to dinner--I insist," said Lady Laura. "Youknow I have a right to command now," she added, in a lower tone, "andtherefore I will tell my father to expect you at dinner."

"I will come if I can," replied Wilton, "but--"

His sentence was interrupted, however, by the Duke's voice at the topof the stairs, exclaiming, "Surely that is Laura's voice? Laura,Laura! My child, my dear child!"

And the next moment, Lady Laura, darting on, was in her father'sarms.

Wilton Brown turned away; and without waiting to press a third personupon a scene which should always be enacted between two alone, he gotinto the post-chaise, and bade the postilion drive him back intoLondon, for it must be recollected that Beaufort House was out of thetown. This was easily accomplished, as the reader may imagine; andhaving dressed himself, and removed the traces of blood and travelfrom his face, he hastened to the house of Lord Byerdale, to givehire an account of the success of his expedition.

The Earl had not been long up; but he had already gone to his cabinetto write letters, and take his chocolate at the same time. Onentering, Wilton, without any surprise, found Arden, the Messenger,in the presence of the Earl; for the man, knowing that the situationin which he stood was a somewhat perilous one, was of course anxiousto make the best of his story before the young gentleman appeared.What did very much surprise Wilton, however, was the gracious andeven affectionate manner in which the Earl received him. He rosefrom his chair, advanced two or three steps to meet him, and shakinghim warmly by the hand, exclaimed, "Welcome back, my dear Wilton. Soyou have been fully and gallantly successful, I find. But what is allthis that Arden is telling me? He is making a terrible accusationagainst you here, of letting off Sir George Barkley, one of the mostnotorious Jacobites in Europe--a very dangerous person, indeed."

"My lord," replied Wilton, "Mr. Arden is repeating to you a falsehoodwhich he devised last night. It is quite true, indeed, that if he hadnot been a most notorious coward, and run away at the firstappearance of danger, there might have been a chance, though a veryremote one, of our securing Sir George Barkley."

"Indeed!" exclaimed the Earl: "then you did meet with him?"

"Amongst the persons whom I had to encounter," replied Wilton, "therewas a gentleman whom they called Sir George, and who, from hisheight, his age, and a deep scar upon his cheek, I have no earthlydoubt, is Sir George Barkley: but he had been gone for an hour beforethis mighty brave gentleman, having collected forty or fifty peopleto keep his own head from harm, thought fit to come back and seek forme. The person who was with me when he did return was a tallfine-looking young man of five or six and twenty."

"Indeed!" said the Earl. "Who could that be?"

"He called himself Captain Churchill," replied Wilton. "I do notmean to say, my lord, that I believe such was his real name; for I donot: but I never saw Captain Churchill at all; and I never saw thisgentleman till the moment when he came to my aid and rescued me, withthe assistance of another, from the hands of as desperate a set ofmen as I ever met in my life, and who would certainly have murderedme had it not been for his arrival. I have a report to make to yourlordship upon all Mr. Arden's proceedings, who, notwithstanding yourmost positive commands to obey me in all things, has refused to obeyme in anything, and by the delays he has occasioned, and theobstructions he has thrown in my way, very nearly prevented me fromeffecting the liberation of Lady Laura at all."

"Your lordship will believe what you choose," replied Arden, in asaucy tone. "All I mean to say is, I am sure that gentleman was notCaptain Churchill; and so you will find, if you inquire. Whoever hewas, Mr. Brown aided his escape, and prevented me from doing myduty."

"Your duty, sir, was to obey Mr. Brown," replied the Earl, sternly;"for that I shall take care that you are punished; and if it shouldprove that this gentleman was really Captain Churchill, you shall bedismissed from your office. You will attend here again at twoo'clock, by which time I shall have written to Captain Churchill, toknow whether he was the person present or not.--Now leave the room."

Arden slunk doggedly away, seeing that Wilton's star happened to bein the ascendant. Had he known how much it was so, however, havingoften heard the Earl speak sharply and discourteously to the younggentleman, he would have been more surprised even than he was at thechange which had taken place. The moment he was gone, and the doorclosed, the Earl again shook Wilton by the hand.

"You have accomplished your task most brilliantly, Wilton," he said,"and I shall take care that you reap the reward of your diligence andactivity, by any effort that depends upon me; but from all that Ihave seen, and heard, and know, you are likely to obtain, from thevery act itself, far higher recompences than any that I could bestow.You are indeed a fortunate young man."

"I am fortunate in your lordship's approbation," replied Wilton; "butI see not why you should call me so in any other respect, except,indeed, in being so fortunate as to effect this young lady'sliberation."

"In that very respect," replied the Earl, with a look full ofmeaning. "Good heavens! my dear Wilton, are you blind? If you are so,I am not; and at your age, certainly I should not have been blind tomy own advantage. You think, perhaps, that because Lady Laura hasrefused to marry Sherbrooke, and broken off the proposed alliancebetween our families, it would make me angry to find she had placedher affections anywhere else. But I tell you no, Wilton! Quite thecontrary is the case. The discovery that she has done so, at oncebanished all the anger and indignation that I felt. If with a freeheart she had so decidedly refused my son, I should have consideredit as little less than an insult to my whole family, and, in fact,did consider it so till Sherbrooke himself expressed his belief thatshe was, and has been for some time, attached to you. His wordsinstantly recalled to my memory all that I had remarked before, howthe colour came up into her cheek whenever you approached her, howher eye brightened at every word you said. That made the matter verydifferent. I could not expect the poor young lady to sacrifice herfirst affection to please me: nor could I wish her, as you may wellimagine, to marry Sherbrooke, loving you. This is the reason thatmakes me say that you area most fortunate man; for the service thatyou have rendered her, the immense and important service, gives yousuch a claim upon her gratitude, as to make it easy for her at onceto avow her attachment. It gives you an enormous claim upon the Duke,too; and I have one or two little holds upon that nobleman which heknows not of--by which, indeed, he might be not a little injured, ifI were a revengeful man, but which I shall only use for your bestinterests."

"But, my lord," replied Wilton, "you seem totally to forget my humblebirth and station. How--situated as I am--could I dare to ask theDuke for his daughter's hand, the only remaining child of such ahouse, the heiress of such immense wealth?"

"Fear not, fear not, Wilton," said the Earl, laying his hand upon hisarm. "Fear not: your blood is as good as the Duke's own; your family,older and as noble."

"I have sometimes thought, my lord," replied Wilton, wishing to gainas much information as possible--"I have sometimes thought, in theutter ignorance wherein I have been left of my own history, that I amthe son of one who has indeed been a father to me, Lord Sunbury,--thenatural son, I mean."

"Oh no!" cried the Earl, with an air almost of indignation: "you areno relation of his whatsoever. I knew not who you were when you firstcame hither; but I have since discovered, and though at present Imust not reveal anything farther to you, I tell you, withouthesitation, to set your mind at ease, to pursue your suit towardsLady Laura, if you have really any regard for her, and to aspire toher hand. In a very few months more you shall know all."

Wilton cast down his eyes, and mused.

"This is not a little strange," he said; "but I know I may placeimplicit reliance on your lordship's word, and proceed in a matterwhere I own my heart is deeply engaged, without the risk of callingupon myself a charge of gross presumption."

"You may, you may," answered the Earl, eagerly; "and if the Dukeshould discover your mutual affection, and make any objection, merelyrefer him to me. But now let us hear more of your adventures ofyesterday and last night."

Wilton would have been very well contented to muse for a few minutesover what the Earl said. Although his experience of the world was notgreat, yet he had a sufficient portion of good sense to supplyexperience in a high degree. This good sense told him, that a suddenand extraordinary change in the demeanour of any man, but moreespecially in that of a man both subtle and determined, was more orless to be suspected. He would fain, then, have obtained time to seekfor the real motives and views of the Earl of Byerdale, in theextraordinary fit of kindness and condescension which had seized uponhim; for he could almost fancy that the Earl was contriving his ruin,by engaging him in some rash endeavour to obtain the hand of LadyLaura.

Strong, however, in her love, he resolved to go on, to deal with herand with her father in all honour, and, supposing even that the Earlwas endeavouring to play him false, to try whether straightforwardand upright honesty, guided by a clear head, a firm heart, and a wellprepared mind, might not win the game against subtilty and worldlycunning.

The Earl marked him as he mused for a minute, but saying nothing moreupon the subject of his hopes, still pressed him to speak of theevents of the preceding day. It was somewhat difficult for Wilton soto shape his words as not to mention Lord Sherbrooke, and not toinvolve himself in any such distinct account of the Jacobites andtheir proceedings as might lead to their arrest, and force him atsome future period to become a witness against them. He succeededtolerably well, however. He could not, and indeed he did not, thinkit right to conceal, that he was perfectly certain the men he metwith were engaged in the most dark and dangerous designs. But hestated, at the same time, that such was merely the impression uponhis mind, for that no distinct avowal of their purposes had been madein his presence, so as to justify him in charging them with treason.

"Nevertheless, my lord," he added, "I think it highly and absolutelynecessary for you to take the same measures as if you knew that ageneral insurrection was contemplated, for I feel perfectly certainthat something of the kind is in agitation."

The Earl smiled. "Now tell me, Wilton," he said, "amongst theseworthy conspirators, did you see any one that was personally known toyou?"

Wilton hesitated.

"Come, come, my young friend," said the Earl--"you must speak out. Wewill not make an evidence of you, I promise you; and, indeed, boththe King himself and all his ministers would be very glad that thesepersons should get beyond sea, and relieve us of their troublesomepresence, provided--mark me--provided, there does not exist theclearest and most distinct proof, not alone that they are conspiringto overthrow the present dynasty--for such conspiracies have beengoing on in every corner of the kingdom, and in the heart of everyfamily, for the last ten years, so that we should only make themworse by meddling with them--but that these men are conspiring in adarker, a more dangerous, a more treasonable, or a more dishonourablemanner, than has ever been clone before. I must explain this businessto you, Wilton, and my views upon it. Politicians have adopted as amaxim that a plot discovered and frustrated always strengthens thehands of the existing government; but this maxim is far too general,and consequently often proves false and dangerous in application.The conditions under which the discovery and frustration of a plot doreally strengthen the hands of government are peculiar. There must becircumstances attending upon the whole transaction which, when theplot is exposed, either destroy the means of future conspiraciesformed upon the same basis, remove for ever the objects of theconspirators, or cause a great change in public feeling, in regard totheir views and motives. If the discovery be so general, thefrustration so complete, and the punishment so severe, as to raisethe power and authority of the government in the eyes of the people,to awaken a wholesome fear in the disaffected, and to encourage andelevate the well disposed and the friends of the state, a very greatobject is certainly gained; and that which was intended to ruin agovernment or overthrow a dynasty, serves but to root it morefirmly than before. There is another case, also, which is veryapplicable at the present moment. If there be something in the natureand designs of the conspiracy, so odious in its means, its character,and its objects, as to enlist against the conspirators sensations ofhorror, indignation, and contempt, one gains from public feeling verymuch more by its discovery and exposure, than even by the power offear over the disaffected, and the elevation of triumph on the partof the well disposed. But in other circumstances, either when partialdiscoveries are made, when the success is not of the most absolute,general, and distinct kind, when the objects of the conspiratorsexcite many sympathies, the errors they commit admit of easypalliation, the means they employ are noble, generous, andchivalrous, and the fate they undergo is likely to producecommiseration, the detection and crushing of them only tends tomultiply and strengthen similar endeavours. With such conspiracies asthese, no wise minister will ever meddle, if he can help it; the morequiet the means he can adopt to frustrate them, the better; the lesshe exposes them and brings them into light, the greater will be hissuccess; for they are like the Lernwan serpent, whose headsmultiplied as they were smitten off; and it is far more easy tosmother them privately than to smite them in public. This is the viewI myself take of the matter; this is the view the King takes of it;and you may have remarked that there has been no attempt made formany years to investigate or punish plots here and there, although wehave bad the proofs that hundreds existed every year. In thisinstance, however, the matter is different. There is reason tobelieve that the present conspiracy is one of such a dark andhorrible nature, as instantly to excite the indignation of the wholepeople, to make all the better part of the Jacobites ashamed of thedeeds of their friends, and to rouse up universal feelings of loyaltythroughout the land. The fact is, the thing is already discovered.Information has long been tendered to the government by variouspersons implicated: but acting upon the plan which we have generallypursued, such advances have been met coldly, till last night moredistinct, and definite information was given by some one, who, insteadof being actuated by motives of gain, or of fear, as we suspected inall other cases, came forward, it seems, from personal feelings ofgratitude towards the King himself. His majesty promised this personnot to bring him forward in the business at all, and has refused togive up his name, even to me. But his conviction of the truth of allthat was told was so strong, that the previous informer was sent forlast night at one o'clock to the palace at Kensington, to which placeI also had been summoned. The whole facts, the names, the designs ofeverybody concerned, were then completely discovered, and I have beenbusying myself ever since I rose, in adopting the proper measures forarresting and punishing the persons directly implicated. Havingexplained to you these views, I must now put my question again. Didyou see any one amongst these conspirators with whose person you wereacquainted? I only ask for my own satisfaction, and on every accountshall abstain from bringing your name forward, in the slightestdegree."

"There was only one person, my lord," replied Wilton, who hadlistened with deep interest to this long detail; "there was only oneperson, my lord, that I had ever knowingly seen before, and that wasSir John Fenwick."

"I signed a warrant for his arrest half an hour ago," rejoined theEarl, "and there are two Messengers seeking him at this moment. Ithink you said you saw Sir George Barkley?"

"I cannot absolutely say that, my lord," replied Wilton; "but Icertainly saw a gentleman whom I believed, and most firmly do stillbelieve, to be him: he was a tall, thin, sinister-looking man, of asomewhat saturnine complexion, with a deep scar on his cheek."

"The same, the same," said the Earl, "undoubtedly the same. Listen,if you know any of these names;" and he read from a list--"SirWilliam Parkyns, Captain Rookwood, Captain Lowick, Sir John Friend,Charnock, Cranburne, the Earl of Aylesbury--"

"The Earl certainly was not there, my lord," replied Wilton; "for Iknow him well by sight, and I saw no one, I can assure you, whom Iknew, but Sir John Fenwick."

"And this Plessis, at whose house you saw them," continued theEarl--"did he seem to be taking a share in the business with them? Heis an old friend of mine, this Master Plessis; and obtains for mesome of the best information that I ever get from abroad. I do notknow what I should do without Plessis. He is the most useful man inthe world. We must let him off, at all events; but it will be no badthing to have a rope round his neck, either."

"I cannot say, my lord," replied Wilton, "that he took any partwhatsoever in the business. In the matter of setting free Lady Laura,he showed himself more afraid of these good gentry than fond of them,and after their arrival, he ran away and hid himself."

"And yet," said the Earl, "he's a rank Jacobite, too. But that doesnot signify. He's an excellent creature, and the greatest rogue inChristendom. All this chocolate comes from him; there's nothing likeit in Europe. Won't you take some, Wilton? I forgot to ask if you hadbroken your fast."--Wilton replied that he had not, and the Earl madehim sit down and follow his example, of writing letters and takinghis chocolate at the same time. One of the notes, however, which theEarl himself wrote, attracted his secretary's attention in somedegree; for as soon as Lord Byerdale had concluded it, he rang thebell and gave it to a servant, saying, "Take that to CaptainChurchill's lodgings. You know where he lives, just in Duke Street.Wait for an answer."

The man went away, and business proceeded. At the end of about anhour, however, the servant returned, saying, as an excuse for hislong absence, that Captain Churchill was in bed when he reached hishouse, and that his valet had refused to wake him.

"When he did wake, however, my lord," added the man, "he said hewould not detain me to write a note, as I had been kept so longalready; but would wait upon your lordship at the hour you named."

Shortly after the return of the servant, the Earl took up his papers,and prepared to proceed to Whitehall. Before he went, however, hepaused opposite to the table at which Wilton was writing, and lookingat him for a moment with a smile, he said,--

"You are surprised, Wilton, and have been puzzling yourself with thereason why I take so much more interest in you than I used to do. Iwill explain it all to you, Wilton, in one word. I did not at firstknow who you were. I now do, as I have before hinted; and my conductto one whom I believed to be a natural son of the Earl of Sunbury,and who was forced upon me somewhat against my own will, was ofcourse very different from that which I show towards a younggentleman of a high and noble family, not very distantly related tomyself.--Now are you satisfied?"

And with these words he left the room. Yet, strange to say, Wilton,though not a little surprised at what he heard, knew the Earl ofByerdale, and was NOT satisfied. But at all events, the words whichhad passed set his mind at ease, in regard to Laura. He now felt thathe was committing no breach of confidence; that he was pursuing nopresumptuous suit, in seeking the object of his dearest and hisbrightest hopes; that though fortune might still be adverse, and suchwealth might never be his, as to place him in a position equal, inthat respect, to herself, yet he had every right and title to strivefor her hand with the noblest of the land.

Wilton did not, indeed, entertain the vain thought that he broughtwith him a treasury of distinguished talents, high and noblefeelings, a generous spirit, and a gallant heart--qualities whichmany a competitor, if not most, would want:--he did not, indeed, soargue the matter with himself; but there was in his bosom the proudconsciousness of deserving well, and the still more strengthening andemboldening confidence, of loving well, truly, nobly, as Lauradeserved to be loved.

Still, however, he was not satisfied with the sudden change in theEarl of Byerdale: there was something in it that roused suspicion;and he resolved to watch all that noble man's proceedings steadilyand keenly, and if possible never to be off his guard for a moment.

Before the time appointed for the return of Arden, the Messenger, theEarl himself came home, bearing a smile of dark satisfaction on hiscountenance.

"Four or five of these gentry," he said, as he entered, "are alreadyin custody, and one or two have been brought before the council. Aman of the name of Cook, and another, seem well inclined to becomeapprovers. If so, the matter will be easily managed. I find therumour is spreading all over the town, with various additions andimprovements, of course. I even hear that there were reports of itall yesterday, though neither the King, nor I, nor any one else, knewaught of the matter then."

"Are any of the principals caught, my lord?" demanded Wilton. "Iconfess, I believe that man, Sir John Fenwick, to be as great avillain as any upon earth; nor do I look upon him as a man of muchcourage either."

"He is not caught," replied the Earl; "but we have got one poorfoolish fellow, called Sir John Friend, who has shown himself afriend to anybody but himself;" and he laughed at his own joke. "Irather suspect," he continued, "that there are a good many people nota little anxious for Fenwick's escape. With the exception of SirGeorge Barkley, he is undoubtedly the man of most importance amongstthem. He is nearly connected, you know, with all the Howards, and wasvery intimate with your good friend the Duke. He is well acquaintedwith Lord Aylesbury, too; and I can tell you there are a good manysuspicions in that quarter. There is another noble lord, LordMontgomery, implicated; and all these good folks are suspected," andhe proceeded to read a list of some twenty or thirty names. "Butthere is no intention of dealing harshly," he added; "and adistinction will be made between the more culpable and the less. Prayhas Captain Churchill been here?"

"Not yet that I have heard of, my lord," replied Wilton; "but Ifairly tell your lordship that I do not think he was the man I saw,though that was the name given."

The Earl rang the bell which stood upon the table, and when a servantappeared, demanded if Captain Churchill had been there.

The servant replied in the negative, but added that Mr. Arden waswaiting. The Earl ordered him to be sent in; and the Messengeraccordingly entered, bearing on his face an air of triumph andinsolence which provoked Wilton's anger a good deal.

"Well, my lord," he said, not waiting for the Earl of Byerdale tospeak--"I have got proof positive now, for I have been at CaptainChurchill's lodgings, pumping his servants, and they tell me that hewas very ill all yesterday, as, indeed, I knew he was, and in bed thegreater part of the day."

"Indeed!" said the Earl. "This is strange enough! But as you say,Wilton, that you do not think it was really Captain Churchill, thename might be given merely as a nom de guerre, and the person givingit might be a very honest man, too."

Before he could conclude, one of the servants announced that CaptainChurchill waited without; and in a moment after he was admitted,presenting to Wilton's eyes a person not very unlike in size and formthe Duke of Berwick, and somewhat resembling him in countenance, butseveral years older, and somewhat darker in complexion.

He entered with a gay and smiling air, and with a grace of carriageand demeanour which was common to himself and his brother, afterwardsthe famous Duke of Marlborough.